Who the Heck?
by AlexandriaAngelMist
Summary: Arthur crash lands Alfred, Matthew, Francis, and himself into some human girls room while trying to get to a meeting. Fail summary is fail, but if I say too much more, I'll give away the story ;  OC is used.
1. Chapter 1

Hello~! So, this is I fic that I've writen for my OC who represents a country that doesn't actually exist...

But I hope you like this, anyway! I've been working really hard on it!

Oh, and I own Hetalia about as much as I own the world, which, in case you were wondering, is not at all.

Enjoy~

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Chapter 1

A fight with sleep is never an easy battle to win. Sleep is always the victor, eventually. Alex had been in the battle for a few hours, now, and was just about to lose. Her head fell back to the pillow that cushioned her back from the hard head board as she nodded off. The laptop, which had been resting on her lap, slid softly onto the bed. In just seconds, any consciousness she had once had, completely evaded her, now.

At about three o'clock in the morning, the computer screen started to glow. It was a strange, unearthly, green-white glow; not something the laptop could create on its own. Suddenly, the screen rippled, like the surface of once still water. Four figures came tumbling out. The first was a fairly tall man with short blond hair, a little cow lick always out of place, and blue eyes. He wore faded jeans, which were frayed at the ends, and a brown number 50 bomber jacket over a blue shirt, with "Hero" written on the front. The next was slightly shorter with longer, wavier, slightly lighter blond hair and blue eyes that looked almost purple. He wore jeans, which were darker and in better shape than the first's, and a red hoodie with a maple leaf printed on the front. The third to tumble out of the laptop was just in between the heights of the first two, and had shoulder length blond hair and bright blue eyes. He wore black pants, a white button up shirt, which was tucked into his pants, and, over that, a stylishly unzipped light, black sweat shirt. It was the latest of fashion in Europe. The last to emerge from the computer was easily the shortest. He had short, blond hair, and bright green eyes under large, bushy eyebrows. He wore a black suit, tie and all, and a light blue shirt under it.

The four of them lay in a pile on the floor for a moment. Soon, they all began to squirm, and fell of each other. When they looked around, they were most certainly not where they ought to be.

"Arthur," came a French accented voice. "Where have you brought us?"

"Well, I'm sure I don't bloody well know, Francis," a British accent came from the one with the green eyes.

"Dude," said the one with the 'Hero' shirt as he stood and spotted Alex sleeping on the bed. "Artie, you landed us in a chick's room!"

"Hell," Arthur whispered to himself as he saw his friend was right. "Well, its not my bloody fault! You broke my concentration, Alfred, you git!"

"H-how are we going to get to the meeting, now," asked a quiet voice coming from the one in the hoodie.

""Who cares, Mattie," Alfred asked with a shrug.

All four of them stood, watching the sleeping girl while they thought about what to do. They were silent as she slept. A lock of her long, slightly wavy, milk chocolate brown hair fell away from her fair skinned face. They noticed that she had fallen asleep in her every day clothes, which included a pair of flair bottom jeans and a blue b-neck baby-T. As he saw the reading glasses that lay on the table, Francis wondered what color her eyes were.

She started to roll over in her sleep, but it caused her to fall from her sitting position. This caused her to wake with a start. She sat straight upright, legs crossed, Indian-style. Slowly, she looked over at the four beside her bed.

"What in the name of all that is pure are you doing in my room," she shouted. So fast it was difficult to process, she had reached behind her and grabbed the pillow, swing it so it caught Alfred hard in the ear. She held up the pillow again, ready to swing if any of them so much as twitched.

There they were; her eyes. They were wide, beautiful, scared and threatening. Bright light somehow shown out of the deep, dark brown. It would be easier to get lost in her capturing, innocent gaze than in any winding, forking, dark tunnel. And every singe one of them were lost too much so to answer her.

"I asked you a question," she yelled, again. Another swing of the pillow caught Francis in the face, which snapped all of them out of their trance.

Still not quite thinking straight, Alfred was the first to speak. "Iggy, here," he said pointing a thumb at Arthur. "Was trying to get us the world meeting, and magicked us to the wrong place."

The other three just stood there and gaped at him. They couldn't believe he had just said that.

"World meeting, huh," she questioned, not believing him, either, but for a completely different reason than the others. "If it's a meeting for the world, why wasn't I invited?"

"Because it's only a meeting for us countries," he answered smugly before his friends could stop him. The answer earned him a hard smack on the head from Arthur. He then realized what he had just said, and look horrified.

One of Alex's brows rose. "You're trying to tell me that the four of you," she said, making a little circle around them in the air with her index finger. "That you're…_ Countries?_"

Matthew shook his head franticly, and Arthur said, "No, no! Of course not! T-that's not even possible." He gave a forced little laugh.

She stared at them, wide eyed. Their denying it simply confirmed one fact; these four guys, who had magically appeared in her room, actually thought they were countries.

She scooted off the bed and stood up, her weapon pillow still held up threateningly. They could see now that she was quite tall; well over five and a half feet. She was almost as tall as Francis. Her hair fell about half way down her back, and a few flay away strands hung in front of her face.

"Explain," she ordered with a threatening jab at Francis. What she had meant to say was 'get out', but somewhere between her logical brain and her mouth, the words had changed. Curse her curiosity; it was going to be the death of her.

The four exchanged glances, nervously. This girl was almost… scary. Not that she could ever hurt them, especially not with a pillow. But her deep eyes and I'll-kick-you-butt attitude were threatening, even to these "countries".

"W-well," said Matthew, speaking for the first time. Oddly enough, the other three couldn't seem to speak. "T-the best way to e-explain, is that w-we're the human personifications of o-our countries."

Still perfectly silent, Alfred, Arthur, and Francis looked at Matthew. They stared at him in shock; partly from him speaking, but mostly from what he had finally decided to say. It wasn't like Matthew to spill secrets like that.

"W-what," he asked a little offended, his voice jut as soft as ever. "I-it wasn't like you wouldn't have told her. E-especially you, Francis. You w-would give a pretty girl whatever she wanted."

After the last sentence, Matthew turned pink. In fact, every face in the room had turned pink. Alex from being called pretty, and the others because they knew they agreed. None there, however, had turned brighter than Francis. For whatever reason, he didn't want Alex to know how he usually acted. He… he felt different around her.

Alex gave a little cough to break the tension. "Personified countries, huh," she asked with a humored little smile. "Then let me see if I can guess."

She walked over to Matthew, first, since he had answered her question. His blush returned as she came closer. "You smell like maple syrup," she said with a little giggle. "But your hoodie gives you away. You're Canada, right?"

He nodded in shock. It was surprising that someone could see him, but she had guessed who he was. They had never met, and she had just found out about the secret, and she had known who he was. He smiled happily, sure that this would be the best day of his life.

Alex smiled back, and moved on to Alfred. "You have a grease stain on your shirt," she pointed out. "You're obviously very… confident in yourself. Maybe more than you should be, Mr. Hero. I'm going to have to say 'America'." Alfred smiled brightly at her correct guess, and she moved on to Arthur.

"I caught your accent earlier, which makes this too easy," she smiled, and spoke in her next words in a perfect British accent. "I must say, your accent is far too addictive to speak in, England?" He blushed at her imitation, and she moved to the last in line; Francis.

"Well," she said, sounding a bit unsure. "The most I can gather suggests France? But you don't exactly act how I would expect the country of 'l'amour'" She rolled her eyes a bit here. "Would act."

Francis blushed a bit when the girl used the French world for love. But… why? Why would he blush? He hardly ever blushed, much less at something so small as the use of his language.

"Well done," Arthur applauded, drawing Alex's attention away from Francis, much to his relief. The Brit then checked his watch. "You have quite the talent, but we must be going, now. We're going to be late." With that, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled something out. It was a want; white with a little yellow star at the top. He twirled it once quickly through his fingers and then set to work drawing an elaborate, glowing circle on the floor, a little ways off from the group. When he had finished, the lines glowed brighter and there was one little ripple in the floor.

"I-I'm sorry," came Matthew's quiet voice. "I don't think I caught your name."

"Alex," she answered as she cautiously followed the others to the edge of the circle. "What is-" she was cut off by her won gasp. Arthur had stepped into the circle; it started to ripple as he sank into the floor.

"Well," he said with a small smile at her gasp. "That is Arthur." He motioned to the Brit as he disappeared. "Alfred," he motioned to the American as he, too, started to disappear. "My name is Matthew, and this is Francis." He stepping into the circle and started to sink, as well. "It was nice meeting you." And then, Francis was the only country left in the room.

"Adieu, mon ami," he said with a little smile as he stepped into the circle. Strange, he would usually call everyone 'cher', even cherAngleterre. He almost never simply called someone a friend.

"Wait, what the-" She stepped into the circle and grabbed Francis's arm. And began to sink into the floor with him.

"We… We're never going to see her again, are we, Arthur," Matthew asked sadly.

"No," he answered, shaking his head. "I'm afraid n-"

But he was cut off by Francis magically appearing thought the floor. Soon after came Alex, which was the real shock. Arthur could have swore that he had designed the portal to transport four… Could this girl have magical powers of her own? There was no other way to explain it. For a moment, all four,(and everyone else in the conference room), just stared at the girl, who still had hold of Francis's arm. Alex looked around in wonder at all the staring strange people around her, trying to figure out how exactly she had gotten here.

"Alex," Matthew exclaimed in his quiet voice, breaking the silence in the room. His face instantly brightened, as did Arthur's and Alfred's. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I was wondering that, myself," she answered with a smile. "Where exactly is 'here'?" Most of the other countries, by now, had gone back to what they had been doing.

"This is the conference room where we hold world meetings," Arthur answered, and then sighed. "And we're already running late, so I don't have time to send you back. You'll have to wait until the meeting is over."

She was about to say that she didn't really mind and that she was excited to see what a meeting of the world was like, but she was cut off by the arrival of two new peo- countries. The first was a tall blonde with blue eyes. You could see that he was quite muscular under his formal clothing. Springing up behind him was a little brunet with brown eyes.

"If you all are ready, we need to start the meeting," the blonde said as he approached. His eyes swept over the little group and landed questioningly on Alex.

"This is Alex, guys," Alfred piped up with a smile. "Alex, this is Ludwig and Feliciano." He pointed to each in turn, indication Ludwig as the blonde and Feliciano as the brunet.

"Alex?" Feliciano chirped. "Isn't that a boy's name?" He bounced up and down a little, a friendly smile on his face. He obviously didn't mean anything by the question.

Ludwig sighed. "Feliciano," he hissed under his breath.

"My full name is Alexandria," she explained, smiling sweetly at her bouncy new acquaintance. "But it's a bit of a mouth full, so I tell everyone to call me Alex." She looked Ludwig up and down and did the same with Feliciano. After considering their names, accents, and obviously friendly relationship, she made up her mind of who they were. "Germany and Italy, right?"

"Ve~! That's amazing," Feliciano said brightly. "How did you do that?"

"Excuse me, Alex," Ludwig said in his German accent. "But are you a country?"

"No," she answered with a shake of her head."I'm just a normal person." Her smile began to fade as she thought about this. "I'm sorry, I'm probably not supposed to be here, am I?"

"I'm afraid not," he answered. "You'll have to wait outside."

"Alright," she said, her smile retuning. She looked back as Ludwig escorted her to the only door in the room to see five worried faces. "Don't worry, guys, I'll be fine! It's not that big of a deal." She gave a little wave as she walked out the door. As soon as it closed behind her, the entire room burst out into conversation; all about some human girl knowing who they were. Alfred, Arthur, Matthew, and Francis had a lot of explaining to do.

Alex sighed now tat she was alone. She had wanted to witness a meeting of the world. She was sure it would have been quite the story when she when she got home. But at least she didn't have to go home, yet; she still wanted to meet the other countries. She doubted that this opportunity was given to many people.

Suddenly, she heard the quick footsteps of someone running. She looked around, and saw a little boy running toward her. He was cute, maybe nine or ten, and blonde. His blue eyes shown with a childish excitement.

"Whoa," he exclaimed. "Jerk England was telling the truth! A pretty girl was kicked out of the meeting!" He turned around and nearly tripped as he walked backwards. "Gilbert! C'mon, hurry up!"

"Ja, ja, I'm coming," came another German voice, a little annoyed. The owner of the voice appeared from around the corn, walking lazily with his hands in the deep pockets of his slightly sagged jeans. His skin was very pale, and his silver hair was stylishly messy, and his blood red eyes said, 'what is this kid going on about, now?'

The boy turned back around and ran the rest of the distance to Alex. She stood there, just looking at the new comers. Were… were these two countries, as well? shecouldn't think of anywhere where they could represent.

"Hello," the little blonde greeted brightly. "My name's Peter, and that's Gilbert." He paused and turned to point at the still walking albino. "You're Alex, right?" he asked, tuning back to her. "And you're not a country, just a normal person?"

"Yes," she answered with a nod, and looking at Gilbert, who had just arrived. "But what about you? You're both countries, right? Why aren't you in the meeting?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes at her ignorance and Peter visibly saddened. What had she said?

"The kid represents the Principality of Sealand, which is not a country," Gilbert explained, and Peter sighed a little. He stood up a little straighter as he introduced himself. "And I represent the awesome Prussia! Which, unawesomely, is no longer a country." His chest fell slightly.

"Well, I'm happy I don't have to wait here alone," she said with a smile. Then she paused, and thought. "How did you know who I was and that I was here, anyway?"

"Arthur text me," Peter answered, pulling his phone out of his pocket as if to prove it was true. "He said that a pretty human girl was kicked out of the meeting. He told me to keep an eye out for her and tokeep her out of trouble. Usually Arthur's just a big jerk, so I had to come see if he was telling the truth."

"Well, I'm sorry you both don't get to be in the meeting," she said as her blush from being called pretty, for the second time that day, faded. "But I'm glad I don't have to sit out here alone."

Suddenly, there was a little cheep. Alex looked around, and saw that there was now a little yellow chick perched on top of Gilbert's head. Her eyes widened, and she wondered why neither Gilbert nor Peter seemed to find the bird's presence strange.

"Gilbert," she said, shock and confusion in her voice. "There's a bird… on top of your head." She felt the need to point it out. Perhaps he hadn't noticed?

"Oh," Gilbert said, glancing up, as if he would see the bird. He reached up to his head, and the chick hopped into his palm. Holding the bird out to Alex, he said, "This is Gilbird. Gilbird, this is Alex."

Gilbird peeped and hopped from Gilbert's hand to Alex's shoulder. He then bounced across her shoulder, closer to her neck, and began to nuzzle her cheek. She giggled and put her hand up so that he could hop into her palm. Gilbird nestled into her hand as she stroked his soft, fuzzy head with one finger.

"He's so sweet," she cooed, and Gilbird cheeped happily.

"Yeah, he's pretty awesome, for a bird," Gilbert said with a smile, which very soon turned cocky. "Not as awesome as me, of course." Then he laughed. It was a strange laugh; more like 'kesese' than 'hahaha'.

"Oh, yes," she said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. "Be it human, beast, or god; all pale in comparison to the awesome essence of Prussia! All hale Lord Gilbert!" At the end of her little speech, she gave a mocking bow, careful not to drop Gilbird.

Gilbert's cocky smile faded into a disapproving sneer at her sarcastic tone. He wasn't used to being made fun of. By now, most everyone would simply ignore when he called himself awesome, or, at least, they would roll their eyes. Then who was this chick to mock his obvious awesomeness?

"C'mon, Gilbird," Gilbert ordered, holding out his hand to the bird. "You don't need to be hanging out with such bad influences."

Gilbird chirped angrily at his owner's hand. He turned and flapped sloppily back to Alex's shoulder. There, he peeped happily and snuggled up to Alex's neck.

"S-stop, that tickles," she giggled. Then, she looked into Gilbert's eyes with a triumphant smile. "It looks like you're not as 'awesome' as you like to pretend you think you are. Even your bird likes me better."

"Traitor," he growled at the bird, only to receive another angry cheep. "He must really like you; though, I'm not sure why." He glared at the little yellow bird, though, now, he wasn't so much as angry as confused. Gilbird usually preferred to be with other country personifications than with humans. Then, he suddenly seemed to remember something. "Wait, what do you mean, 'pretend'"

She huffed slightly and shook her head. "If you honestly can't figure it out, maybe you're just as ignorant and conceited as you act," she replied harshly. "Either that or you're just stupid; either are possible. Tell you what, if you can't figure it out, maybe I'll tell you; eventually."

Gilbert sneered, non to happy about being called ignorant. He looked as if he were about to say something quite nasty when he was cut off by the all but forgotten little blonde.

"Guys," he begged, tugging on Alex's hand. "Please stop fighting! I-I… Just please stop fighting!" He looked and sounded like he was about to cry.

Alex looked down at the boy tugging at her hand/ her brown eyes immediately softened when she saw the tears welling up in his blue. She quickly pulled him into a comforting hug; the kind that had just the feminine touch to make the world seem a little better.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Peter," she said soothingly. "We didn't mean to upset you. It was nothing, honestly."

Peter held her back, and pretended to take a moment to calm down. During this time, he looked up at Gilbert and smiled. He had a look that clearly said, 'bet you wish you hadn't fought, now'. _Yes_, peter thought to himself. It was good to be a twelve year old that looked eight.

Gilbert gawked at Peter. _Why that little…_he thought. "O-oi-" he exclaimed at Peter, but he was cut off. Alex looked over at him, and he reeled back; until he noticed her eyes no longer held their previous ire.

"I'm sorry," she apologized stiffly, yet sincerely. "I've only just met you; I shouldn't have said the things I did. Truce?" She let go of Peter with one arm, leaving the other around him, and held her now free hand out to Gilbert.

He didn't except her hand, immediately. He didn't want to forgive her. She had hurt his pride ad brought to the surface feelings he usually suppressed. But _Mein Gott _she was making it difficult to stay angry. Her eyes, which he would have sworn were cold and black just moments ago, now looked like pools of melted chocolate. And how could anyone refuse an apology with chocolate?

"Ja, ja," he mumbled, grudgingly taking her hand and giving a curt shake. He found that it was worth forgiving her when she smiled. It was a true smile, quite unlike the mocking smirks she had given him earlier.

"Well, I want to go exploring," she declared, removing her other arm from around Peter. "You guys want to come?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned and began to walk off.

"You little pervert," Gilbert said quietly so that Alex couldn't hear.

"I know how to stop a fight," he said with a happy grin and a shrug. "And you're just jealous because she hugged me and insulted you. Just be happy I got her to apologize; we both know you never would."

Just a Gilbert was going to reply, Alex turned around and yelled, "Are you guys coming or not?" She was half way down the hall, and waiting impatiently.

With a loud, childish laugh, Peter ran to catch up with her. Gilbert grudgingly broke into a jog so that he wouldn't be left behind.

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I hope you like chapter 1~! I'll be posting chapter 2 as soon as I get it typed up!

I really hope you like this... Especially Alex! I really love writing her.

Thanks for reading~! ^^


	2. Chapter 2

Here's the second chapter~!

Enjoy~

(*still doens't own Hetalia*)

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Chapter 2

Gilbert burst though the door of the meeting room, followed by a bouncy little Peter and an Alex still sporting a fluffy, yellow chick on top of her head. The meeting was finally over, and the odd little trio was happy to once again be part of the group, even if Gilbert would never admit it. They were immediately greeted by a rather large group, which consisted of Matthew, Arthur, Alfred, Francis, the bouncy Italian, Feliciano, and the all too serious German, Ludwig, and two who she didn't recognize. One was rather angry looking and looked like he could be Feliciano's twin. The other was much happier, and was smiling so brightly she would have sworn he was the personification of the sun, had she not known better.

"Alex," Feliciano exclaimed, running up to her and pulling into a tight, friendly hug. "This is _mi fratello, _Lovino." He gestured widely to the brunet with the angry expression. "Lovi represents the southern half of Italy, and I represent the north." He illustrated his explanation with large hand motions. It was so very… Italian.

"Shut up, _fratello," _he said, the venom laced in his voice sounded so natural. "A non-nation doesn't need to know about us."

"Pleasure to meet you, too," she said sarcastically, yet god naturedly, back, rolling her eyes. The fiery Italian opened his mouth to say something, probably obscene, by the look in his eyes, but was cut off by Mr. Sunshine.

"Calm down, Lovinito," he said to a scowling Lovi in a Spanish accent. I'm sure she won't tell anyone! And whatever happened to that charming, Lady's-man, Italian attitude?" He then turned his sparkling smile to Alex. "My name is Antonio! I represent Spain! It's nice to meet you, _mi amiga_!"

"The pleasure's all mine," she returned brightly. Then looking over at Lovino with a little laugh; "Really, I think it is." She laughed to herself a bin more as her words cause grumbled Italian.

"I apologize for forcing you to spend the entire meeting with _mein bruder_," Ludwig said, whilst being bounced around by Feliciano.

"Nein, West," Gilbert cut in, looking offended. "It was 'her pleasure' o hand out with the awesome me!"

Ales turned to the Prussian and raise an eyebrow. "'Nein' Gilbert," she said saucily, crossing her arms. "I believe it was your 'awesome pleasure to follow the very unimpressed me around as I conducted an exploration of the building." She gestured widely above her head, indicating the entire building.

'Oh,' Francis thought to himself as he watched the dispute quietly. 'Petit Alex talks with her hands, like Feli.

"Do you have a problem with that," Alex asked, bringer her hands down abruptly to rest on her hips as she turned to the Frenchie. The action simultaneously cut off a retort from Gilbert, caused a confused 'Ve~?' from Feliciano, brought an annoyingly loud laugh from Alfred, and mad Francis's cheeks flush ever so slightly.

_Mon Deu,_ had he said that out loud? "O-of course not, _cher_," he said quickly, trying to cover his mistake. "I was merely and observation."

Alex's eyes narrowed before she turned back to Gilbert. The two were back to quarrelling in seconds; Alex's arms soon after began swinging wide, or wagging a finger at the albino's chest, or resting agitatedly on her hips.

Alfred and Matthew walked closer to the others; Alfred to laugh at Gilbert for basically loosing this argument to a girl (the sexist pig), and Matthew to make sure the argument didn't go too far. Arthur, however, stayed behind with Francis.

"That was smooth, Frog," Arthur said quietly with a laugh. Neither was looking at the other, but had their attention tuned to the loud little group. "Very nice recovery."

"_Merci, petit lapin_," he said with a little chuckle. "_Deu,_ I don't know what has come over me. I am not acting quite myself."

Arthur turned his head to look a Francis and stared for a moment; as if waiting for the Frenchman to tell him it was a joke. After a few moments of silence, and a confused look on Francis's face, Arthur burst out laughing.

"B-bloody-" he sputtered though his laughter as he tried to calm down. "Y-you really don't get it, do you?" Francis shook his head, confusion evident in his eyes, which caused another fit of laughter from the Brit. "Hah! The bloody 'country of love' can't even tell when he actually likes a girl!"

"I will have you know, _Angleterre_, that I have loved before, and-"

"No, Frog," Arthur cut him off. "You have lusted before. And you have no idea how to react to a feeling other than such."

Francis simply looked shocked, and Arthur turned from him and began to walk toward the little group. It seemed as if they would need quite a bit of help soon. Alex was leaning forward, putting her face very close to Gilbert's. she was jabbing a finger to his chest and saying, rather loudly, "-sexist pig who can't even properly argue with a 'chick' who has lived sixteen years compared to his thousands is most undoubtedly _awesome_!" The sarcasm dripping from her tongue was toxic. (Let if be noted that Ludwig looked quite impressed with the girl.)

She now pulled away, looking rather tired. She gave a satisfied little huff at the shell-shocked expression on Gilbert's face/ all in the room were beginning to realize that this girl had a fire in her that rivaled some of the most enthusiastic countries. You wouldn't think it by how she looked, but she wasn't one you would want to cross.

When he regained his senses, Gilbert started to grumble. "… Just doesn't appreciate my awesome…" He had taken Gilbird back, and placed the chick on his head. When he was sure he was done being yelled at, he walked over to Ludwig and hoped he wouldn't be scolded further.

This was when Lovino approached the girl. Antonio followed closely behind the Italian. The brown eyes of the first were slightly narrowed; almost disbelieving.

"I would have never thought that you could chew someone out like that," he said, and the, oddly enough, he smiled. "Bastard deserved it. I think you and I could get _along_ just fine. That is, as long as you don't try and do the same to me."

"_Grazi, _Lovi," she said with a smile, having calmed down quite a bit. "I think…"

"OH, Lovi," Antonio exclaimed. "You actually complemented her! I'm so proud of you, _mi tomate!_"

"S-shut up, bastard," Lovino yelled, tuning almost as red as the fruit he had just been called. "I've told you not to call me a tomato! Chigi!"

Giggling as the two continued to fight, ("Aww, you're so cut, Lovinito~!" "Shut up, _Spagna!_"), Alex left the two alone, and walked over to the lone Francis.

"_Bonjour, petit Alex_," Francis greeted as the girl approached. "That was… quite the show." He chuckled a little as Alex winced.

"Yeah… sorry about that… It may seem like I hate him; even just after the few hours we've known each other. But I really don't. it's just that I can't stand people who think the world revolves around them."

Well, that would ruin both Gilbert's and Alfred's chances with the girl. He, on the other hand, had a slight sliver of hope… What a strange thought. He had already vaguely stated to Arthur that he didn't love the girl.

"And how do you feel about me, _mon cher_?" Another strange question. Well, not for when he was acting like himself, but- Wow, this was getting complicated.

She paused a moment before answering. "I feel that you can most definitely not be the personification of Francis. I mean," She gave a joking smile and a hand flip. "I've known you for more than five minutes and you haven't even kissed my hand, much less tried to hit on me." She laughed, sounding like bells. "Very un-stereotypical Frenchie."

He laughed a little, French, 'Ohohon' sort of laugh. "As you wish, _mon ami,_" he said, giving a little bow. He then took her hand and brought it lightly to his lips. "Better, kitten," he asked with a wink as he rose.

"Perhaps I was mistaken," she amended as the light blush on her cheeks receded. Suddenly, she yawned and realized just how tired she was. She hadn't had but a few hours of sleep, after all.

"I think it's time to get you home, Alex," came Arthur's friendly British accent from behind her. "You look exhausted, dear."

"Well, that may have something to do with y

U crash landing in my room at three in the morning," she said. Another laugh was cut off by another long yawn.

"I'll go prepare your way home, then," he said, walking off to an empty corner of the room and beginning to draw the circle on the floor. It looked a lot like the one he had drawn in her room, but she could tell there were slight differences.

"You're leaving," Feliciano half asked, half whined as he and the rest of the group walked over to them. (When they had noticed she had walked over to Francis, everyone but Feliciano and Arthur had been a little worried.)

"Yes, but it's alright, Feli, I'll see you some other time," she said with a smile, only to receive a few distressed looks. "Won't I?"

"W-well, you're not even really supposed to know that we e-exist as personifications," Matthew said reluctantly.

"Yeah, dude, much less become friends with us," Alfred added, sadly.

"I'm never going to see you guys again," she asked, wide eyes searching from face to face, looking for some glimmer of hope. All she received was a depressed shaking of heads.

As her chest fell in disappointment, she was pulling into a breast-squishing hug by the friendly Italian in front of her. She hugged back, instantly, with a smile. When she buried her face into his shoulder, she could feel Feliciano shaking slightly.

"I'll miss you, too, Feli," she said as she pulled back and wiped a few tears from his eyes with thumb. And thus began the goodbyes, which she had always hated.

Ludwig was next, and he held out his hand for a hand shake. Alex was about to take it when she was pushed into the other by a giggling Feliciano. The German blushed as he caught the girl, and she laughed as she hugged back.

"Keep your brother in line, soldier," she said a seriously as she could as she pulled back.

"I'll try my best, ma'am," he replied with a good-natured roll of his eyes and a mock salute.

"Come and visit Spain, some time, amiga," Antonio demanded when she walked over to him. He pulled her into a hug, and all the warmth of his country seemed to wash over her.

"Count on it, 'Tonio," she agreed as she pulled away.

Lovino's arms were crossed as she turned to him. The fiery little Italian had a angry-yet-sad sort of expression on her face.

"I'll never forgive you for making mi fratello cry, bitch," he said, but there was no venom behind his words.

"Neither will I, Lovi," she said, hugging him, even though his arms were crossed. She waited until he wrapped his arms around her and lightly squeezed before smiling and moving on.

Peter jumped up to her before she could even move. His face was smiling, but she could see tears in his eyes. He hugged her around her middle as tight as he could.

"You should move to Sealand," he said to her. His smile never faltered, but tears were now lightly streaming down his face. "You could be royalty, and maybe then everyone would except me as a country!"

She laughed at him and patted his head lightly. Then, she turned to Alfred, who pulled her into a big bear hug.

"Maybe we'll run into each other back in the states," the blonde exclaimed before they pulled back.

"I'm pretty sure that's against the rules, Al," she said with a laugh. But then, after a pause; "And how did you know I was American?"

"When you _are_ the country, you just kinda know this stuff," he answered, which caused her to laugh again.

Matthew tugged her lightly away from Alfred into his own arms. She hugged back tightly and both smiled.

"If you ever get sick on America," she said, his voice like a whisper. "The country right above it is a pretty nice place."

"I know where Canada is, Matthew," she said with another laugh. "And I'll be sure to come and visit if I get the chance."

He smiled softly as she went over to stand, crossing her arms, in front of Gilbert. Their stances were practically mirrored, as were their expressions.

"Well?" Her voice was a little cold, but expectant. She was waiting.

"Well, what," the albino asked in return. "The awesome me doesn't care if you leave. Once you're gone, only West will be allowed to yell at me."

She sighed and turned around, but before she could go anywhere, her wrist was grabbed. She turned back around to see an almost conflicted look on the Prussian's face.

"Hey," he said, almost against his will. "I you ever visit Germany, the East is way awesomer."

Alex's face brightened, and she hugged Gilbert. This caused the other to wrap his arms around her, a little awkwardly. He hadn't expected that reaction.

When she released him, she turned to Arthur, who had just finished drawing the circle on the floor and walked over.

"Are you about ready," he asked as they hugged.

"Yes," she said with a nod as they broke apart. Then, the group made its way to the intricate teleportation circle.

"Haven't you forgotten someone, _mon ami_," Francis asked, stepping up to Alex before she entered the circle.

"Ah, yes," she said with a smile as she turned to face him. "The no-so-French Frenchie; how could I forget?" She laughed a little. It was more of just a joke, now, as he had shown her he could be a stereotypical Frenchman, if he wanted to.

Quickly, and without hesitation, Francis took a fluid step towards he, putting an arm around her waist. Alex, too shocked to do much, simply stared at him wide eyed as he placed the fingers of his free hand gently under her chin. More slowly, now, he placed a delicate kiss to each of her cheeks.

The others were shocked. –That Francis hadn't kissed the girl full on.

"French enough for you, _mon cher_," he asked as he looked into the other's deep, brown eyes, and chuckled a bit.

Alex stepped back, away from the Frenchman, and mumbled something about admitting she's wrong when she's proven wrong.

"Adieu, Francis," she said quietly, causing her to wonder if she knew the phrase meant 'see you in the next life'. "Goodbye, everyone. We'll see each other again someday. I'm almost sure of it!"

With that, she stepped into the middle of the circle Arthur had drawn for her. Closing her eyes, she thought of her home, of her room, which had so strangely been invaded, of her laptop, which still lay on her bed. And, suddenly, bright blue light shot up from the lines on the floor, and wind spun around her, whipping her hair in all directions. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, all was quiet. And Alex had vanished with the impressive display of magic.

"Dude, Iggy, that was wicked," Alfred exclaimed, of course, being the first to break the silence.

"Angleterre, I did not know you could do such things," Francis added, a bit amazed, as was everyone else.

"I can't," Arthur admitted in awe. "There is a reason my means of transportation are not quite so flashy. My magic isn't strong enough for that. Not to mention my magic manifests itself in green, not blue." He shook his head slightly. "Alex, without even knowing she possesses such a gift, is far more powerful than I could dream of being with a thousand more years of training."

"A-Arthur," piped up the quiet Canadian beside him. "Weren't you s-supposed to erase her memory of this?"

"Yes, I was… but now I doubt if I would have been able to, if I tried."

Alex appeared in her room, which was still dark because of the shades, and fell lightly onto her bed from the space above it. The tired girl was asleep before her head hit the pillow. She had odd dreams that night of traveling the world, speaking to countries, and of magic.

Ale spent the next two years completing her high school education. She made good grades, and finished in the top five of her class. Happily, she was not Valedictorian, as she would have had to give a speech.

Her best subject was English. She won awards for some of her work. Though she usually preferred to write in solitude, she could often be caught writing strange short stories about stereotypical representatives for each country. Little did anyone else know that these people were the actually the countries themselves.

Her worst subject, History and Geography, were mad far more interesting to her by her experience.

And she knew it hadn't been a dream. A dream would never have made such an impression on her. No; she knew it had all been real, but she never told anyone about what had happened that night.

By the summer of her graduation year, she had finally saved up enough money for her dream. To take a European tour. She had already visited Canada a couple of times, but never any European countries. But, now that she had graduated, now that she was eighteen, now that she had the money, she would be touring all of Europe.

When she was planning her trip, she had at first considered starting in Spain and moving eastward. She later decided that she would begin in England, move down to Europe, and continue from her original plan. Not only would it be more convenient, this way, but it would also allow her to poke a little fun at Francis; visiting Arthur before him. If he even knew of her plans, that is.

They all did, of course. It had become a bit of a group project to keep an eye on the girl. They all wanted to make sure she stayed out of trouble, but also that she wouldn't forget about them, or blow their secret.

When Alex had set her plans, Arthur would constantly brag to the European nations, especially Francis, that Alex was visiting the United Kingdom first. Francis, in turn, would tell the Brit not to kill the girl with his cooking before she could visit Europe.

It was a rather funny joke to all but Arthur. Until, that is, the Brit watched the eight-o'clock news the morning Alex was scheduled to leave.

-_"At four-o'clock, this morning, a young American girl was found dead at the sight of a car crash, one Alexandria F. Knight. It appears that a drunk driver, who was found half a mile away from the scene, hit her car and drove her off of the road. And there will be more details when we re-"-_

Arthur clicked the television off. He couldn't watch anymore. He simply sat there in shock.

That girl; the one who could cause Gilbert to question himself, the one who caused Francis to act so unlike himself, the one who's magical ability so greatly exceeded his own. This girl, who in no way would have ever become a nobody in the world, who had made such an impression on all of them; was suddenly gone.

When he could finally move, he stood and walked over to his phone. His eyes were hazy as he dialed Francis's number. The incident may have happened in his home, but the Frenchman had become more attached to the girl than any of them. They weren't exactly the best of friends, but it was only appropriate that his long time rival be the first told.

"Ah! Angleterre! To what do I own this pleasure?" Came that French accent over the phone.

"Francis, I have some bad news…" The tone in Arthur's voice, for once, kept Francis completely silent as he relayed the situation.

After that, word spread quickly of the accident. The next week or so was, literally, rather dark. A large expanse of dark clouds spread all across Western Europe. Even the usually happy, sunny Spain was bleak and dismal. Many of the nations did their best not to blame the already guilty Arthur. However, that wasn't always easy for a certain southern half of Italy.

Meetings for the next few months, meetings were quite abnormal. They went quickly, quietly, and without interruption. The lack of argument was almost scary, and their newly found silence was oppressing.

Eventually, though, each country came out of their emotional depression; one by one. Before long, each began continuing their lives relatively normally. All, that is, except for Francis.

It had been sixteen years sense Alex's death. For the first eight years, Francis had kept to himself; only socializing when necessary. For the more recent eight years, his personality had taken an odd turn. He had, for the past eight years, been reverted to his old pirate self. Everyone knew that it was just a way to deal with everything, but, after sixteen years, they were starting to worry.

Francis was now off sailing, alone, once again. He had done the same thing on the same day every year, trying to clear his head. It was the anniversary of Alex's death.

This yeah, however, he decided to take a much different rout then usual. And he came across something quite strange.

He had been sailing though a thick fog for quite some time. When he finally came out of it, there was a beautiful island in front of him; covered in green and spots of color. And it was far too close for his liking. He did his best to slow his ship to a stop, but he wasn't a quick enough. He rode up to a stop on the soft white sand of a beach. Then, as he was here already, and had nothing better to do, he jumped down lightly from his ship and decided to explore this apparently new land.

As he walked inland from the beach, he came across a large valley. It lay between three large what appeared to be mountains, but were actually no longer active volcanoes. Beautiful wild flowers filled the valley to bursting with color. Some looked quite familiar, but others he had never seen before. Every color, every shape, every sized; if you could imagine the flower, it was in that valley.

In the middle of the valley, twirling and dancing, was a flower of a completely different kind. A blue dress reached down just below her knees, and exposed the fair skin of her shoulder. It flowed elegantly around her knees as she danced. Her long, milk chocolate brown hair was woven with some of the flowers though which she waded. Her eyes were shut, almost as if she was asleep.

She looked almost exactly like-

As if sensing a presence, the girl's eyes shot open and turned coolly to Francis. Before he could even think, she had reached down, grabbed something that lay at her feet, and come to stand in front of him. He was silent as he processed the fact that a glimmering, slender, black sword was being held against his neck.

"Who are you and what in the name of all that is pure are you doing in my home," she asked icily.

There they were; her eyes. They were wide, beautiful, scared, and threatening. Bright light somehow shown out of the deep, dark brown. It would be easier to get lost in her capturing, innocent gaze than in any winding, forking, dark tunnel. And he would recognize those eyes anywhere.

She looked exactly the same as the first time they had met.

"Alex, _cher_," he exclaimed, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. His next words came as a whisper. "H-how are you alive?"

"I asked you a question," she said, more threateningly. The fear in her eyes was masked by a murderous stare as she pressed the flat of her sword roughly against his chest. "And how do you know my human name? I am Alexandria Knight, representative and personification of Floralita Island. Now, who are you?"

"P-personification," he whispered in awe. How was that possible? "It's me, Alex, Francis! _Mon cher,_ the personification of France! Do you not remember?"

"How could I remember someone I have never met," she asked, just as coolly as ever.

And his heart broke. She had made it seem like she would never forget any of them, no matter what. What if she had forgotten all of them?

"What about Matthew, _cher_," he asked, almost hopefully, only to receive a shake of the head. "Alfred? Arthur?"

She only shook her head again, and sheathed her sword at her side. This man seemed harmless enough, and it would be a shame to bloody her Moon Diamond sword so worthlessly.

"Peter? Gilbert? Antonio? Feliciano? Lovino? Ludwig?"

Each name was given a shake of the head.

"I have never met these people," she said when he was done.

His heart plummeted. He didn't know why or how, but Alex had been personified into this new nation after her death. And, in the process, she had forgotten every single one of them.

But he could see a sparkle of hope in the distance. She was alive and she was a country. He had invaded her land, and she had not killed him instantly. She still seemed to be the same Alex, including her almost dangerous sense of curiosity. If she wasn't herself, he would have been dead by now.

"Well, _mon cher,_" he said, bowing low and taking her hand to press a light kiss to the top. "I am Francis Bonnefoy, representative and personification of France; the country of l'amour. And it is a pleasure to meet you."

He smiled as he stood up right and saw the light blush which dusted her cheeks, matching them to one of the flowers in her hair.

* * *

Okay, so here it is! I really hope the ending wasdn't too disappointing... I kind of liked it, but I'm the author, and I'm supposed to... ^^"

Sorry for Francis being so OOC, but I've always thought that that he would act differently around the person he really likes/loves, and not just lusts after... I don't know... My mind is strange...

I hope you liked reading about Alex as much as I like writing about her! I'm thinking about writing another fic about her... but I'm not sure, yet...

Anywho, hope you liked it! Oh, and if you're wondering about Alex being human and tuning into a country, The Theory of Magic sheds a little more light on the subject ^^"

Thanks for reading!

Love you all~! 3


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